


Time Can Do So Much

by megalophobic



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Slow Dancing, even tho its painfully obvious, im not sure lmao, ive had this idea for a while lol, maybe? - Freeform, they dont wanna say that tho, theyre kind of in love lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megalophobic/pseuds/megalophobic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a small drabble (hopefully) I've thought about for a while now :"}<br/>Based on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXARHZmpgvw">this song.</a> Please give it a listen while reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Can Do So Much

If it was something that Sniper couldn't handle, it was intimacy.

He was always formal when it came to dates, or hook ups, or flings. He never felt a true and real connection to anyone. He promised himself he wouldn't after a failed relationship of 12 years. Hell, they were gonna get married for fuck's sake. That is, until the other person up and left, never coming back.

And if there was anything Sniper could consider intimate, he stopped doing it. That was when his passion for dancing was snuffed as well.

Oh, how graceful he was on his feet. He was a man with no opinion on the genres of the music, because he always found a way to sway and swing to the beat, almost floating across the floor as he moved. It was like he detached from reality and went into a different mindset. Although, if he _had_ to pick a favorite genre, it would most likely be blues.

Nowadays, he rarely danced. Hell, he rarely showed _emotions_ in front of anyone. If he did decide to dance, it was only with the swaying of his body and the rhythmic tapping of his feet, and nothing more. When asked to join the team on a particularly rowdy night to the back of the base, where they set up a campfire and a static-filled radio, he would politely decline and opt for just watching as Engie and Pyro danced together as one unit, laughing when they occasionally messed up the square dance they were performing. It was good to observe, in any case. 

But hey, things change.

Wounds heal.

 

\---

 

Another day, another battle. And today's was rough. Sniper and almost everyone else went through respawn multiple times that day, but that still didn't stop them from leaving the battle with unhealed and bleeding wounds. That ultimately lead to half the team sitting outside of medic's office, waiting for the doctor to tend to them all. This of course, meant Sniper was somewhere else. He usually didn't like the idea of being around his teammates right after battle, especially one that they lost. Too messy, too loud, too overwhelming. He'd visit doc later.

Heading back out of the base, across the field, and over the low-lying fence surrounding the battlefield (really, what was it even there for?), the marksman made his way to his camper van. Unlike his other mates, he preferred his own place, off base. Plus, he couldn't just abandon his baby girl, could he? No, he couldn't.  
Once he unlocked and entered the vehicle, he tossed the keys on the counter and immediately stripped off his shirt, grunting in pain as a bullet lodged in his shoulder shifted and caused blood to unnecessarily gush from the wound. Pathetic. But it still hurt like hell, and Sniper admitted that. He sat down on the booth next to the door of the van and reached under the table accompanying it, pulling out a small first aid kit and pulling out a roll of gauze and a small bottle of antiseptic, beginning to dress the less severe wounds, and doing what he could to stop the bleeding on the more drastic ones.

Meanwhile, back at base, Medic was busy tending to his fellow team members. Some could just handle the medigun shooting warm, healing rays at them, but others needed to be sewn back together. Honestly, he thought, these men were reckless. At least _stop_ for a second to assess the damage, rather than charge further into the battle! It was a little more than irritating to have to tend to these classes, who acted more like toddlers than mercenaries. Then again, it _was_ his job. He sighed inwardly as he continued to tend to the Scout, who was whining at the fact that the doctor was holding a needle and thread.

The rest of the day was going to drag on longer than usual.

 

\---

 

Later on that night, Sniper decided to check in with the nurse before he hit the hay. Entering the base, he had to take a second to remember which route to take to get to the doctor's office. It wasn't too often that he went there willingly.

Once he started walking down the hallway towards Medic's office, the Aussie almost immediately faltered in his steps. The air was different. It was..moving. Moving a bit closer, the Sniper then realized it was... _music?_ Moreover, it wasn't the regular static of the small radio they all shared. This music was clearer. More alive. Without realizing it, Sniper's body started moving towards the sound of it, eager to hear it closer. It was blues music. A contented sigh passed though the man and he froze up for a split second before continuing towards the source, stopping himself right outside of Medic's office.

Moving his body against the wall, he peeked into the room and widened his eyes at the sight in front of him. Medic, his white coat and gloves discarded in favor of a plain tan sweater vest, holding a delicate...violin...in his grip. It was as if the instrument were a part of him, the way he moved with it. Eyes closed, body swaying gently to the soft music coming from the phonograph situated on one of the operating tables, seeming absolutely calm with his surroundings. The bow in between the doc's fingers moved with practiced grace and precision, almost like he was sewing up a patient with each stroke he made across the strings of the violin, playing in perfect time with the violin playing in the song.

Sniper recognized that song. He recognized it well.

He inhaled sharply before realizing his mistake and attempting to make his getaway, but not before he heard the abrupt sound of a broken note and the record being stopped, followed by the sharp accent of the German.

"Herr Sniper? Is that you?"

Stopping in his tracks, the marksman sighed and admitted defeat before slowly walking back and peeking into the room. When he did, he saw that Medic had already composed himself, and was waiting with his hands behind his back. That is, until he saw the gauze and caked on blood on the Sniper.

Rushing forward, the nurse let out a string of frustrated German as he pulled at the other's arm to usher him into the room and sitting him down on one of the icy cold tables there, immediately starting to tend to his wounds.

"Bist du ein Kind? Diese Wunden konnten mittlerweile infiziert warden!"

"English, please, doc."

The Medic sighed. "Are you an idiot, Herr Mun-dee? These wounds could very well be infected by now! You should have come to me _immediately_ after battle you...you.."

Letting out a frustrated groan, the older man went about getting his medigun set up and started, as well as getting the equipment he needed in order to properly treat the bushman. Again, was he working with children!? Honest to God, Medic was considering killing the man for being so naïve instead of treating him.

"Calm down, nurse. I know how to dress m' own wounds. Have you not realized I've had worse _before_ the war?"

"Ach, it doesn't matter! It was still stupid of you to try and avoid me before now! You're lucky I'm a good doctor, because otherwise-"

"Yeah yeah, I get it. Infections, amputations, missin' limbs. I get it." The Sniper rolled his eyes.

"I don't think you do. Now, lift your shirt so I can treat these properly."

 

\---

 

Thirty minutes later, the Medic examined his suture one more time before nodding quietly to himself, standing back and looking at his handiwork.

"Gut. Are you feeling better now?" He asked, eyebrows raised in concern.

Nodding, the Australian hopped off of the table and gently moved a hand over the stitches on his shoulder, before having a hand swatted against his head.

"Oi! What the bloody hell was that for?" He whined, pouting over to the German.

"Don't you know not to mess with stitches? Such a Dummkopf sometimes, it baffles me." The man replied, ice in his tone.

Scoffing, Sniper looked away and rubbed at his head for a moment, silence settling over the room. The voice that came a few seconds later jolted the marksman from his haze that he had apparently been in, causing him to jump slightly before blinking up at the other.

"Wot?"

"I said, why were you just standing outside of my office, spying on me? Isn't that..well...the _spy's_ job?" Medic chuckled.

"Oh, that. I uh...overheard the music that was playin', 's all." The man mumbled, turning his face to try and hide the blush slowly creeping up his face.

"Ah, do you recognize the song? It's one of my favorites."

"A' course I know it. It was suppose' to play at m' wedding. Didn't happen."

"I...see. I am sorry to hear that, Herr Sniper.. I suppose she wasn't _that_ great then, hm?"

"He. And no, I guess not."

Medic blinked up at the other, that being his turn to be the surprised one. Sniper was...gay? He would have never guessed. The Australian never even showed interest in his other teammates, much less _romantic_ interest.

"Well, did you ever have your first dance..?" The doctor asked, voice low.

Sniper blinked. "No, no I didn't."

"Would you... _like to?_ "

This caught the younger man by surprise, to which he quickly responded, "I don't dance."

"That's ridiculous. Everyone can dance. Even Scout could learn." Medic chuckled.

"That's not what I meant doc. I _can_ dance, I choose not to." The bushman bit back.

Medic visibly recoiled at the harsh tone, but cleared his throat. "Just this once. Please?"

"My skills are rusty."

"It will come back to you."

"Doc, I don't-"

"Ach, just come here."

The Medic tugged at the Sniper's arm to bring him closer before resetting the record player and cranking it slowly to get it started. Once it did, Sniper found it hard to contain himself already. Moving back towards the taller man, Medic slowly caught the other's hand in his, placing his other hand on the man's hip gently. Inhaling quietly, he blinked downwards before glancing up at the other with a reassuring smile, nodding. "Just follow my lead, alright?"

The most Sniper could do was nod.

Then, it seemed as if time slowed. Memories rushed back at Sniper, causing his breathing to stutter a bit as he was led by the doctor slowly around the room. One step forward, two steps back. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Closing his eyes, the Aussie subconsciously started to _lead_ , taking the German by surprise as he boldly stepped forward, moving around with renewed feeling and energy, as if the music itself were judging where he placed his feet next. Smiling, the Medic watched as the Sniper engrossed himself in the rhythmic movements of the notes and lyrics, watching with young eyes as the man now led them both around the room. He knew it was inside of him. He saw it in the way the marksman looked longingly at the other mercs as they danced about at times. He just needed a bit of persuasion. 

As the song ended on a sweet note, so did the spell that overtook Sniper. He opened his eyes and blinked in surprise, detaching from the other and backing up a bit before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Ah.....sorry about that, mate. I got a bit too into it there, didn't I?"

Medic only blinked, watching the man with interest and...another feeling. One that terrified and amused him at the same time. He mulled on it for a moment. What could it be?

"I'm...gonna go, doc. Thanks for patchin' me up. 'Preciate it."

That got Medic's attention. Shaking his head, he was about to tell Sniper to wait, until he realized the man was already gone.

That's when it hit him.

 

The feeling was love.

**Author's Note:**

> (I hope the German was accurate enough? I'm not too sure on it, but it gets the point across.)  
> (I also didn't go back and check for typos. Sorry, I'm tired!! ;w;)  
> this was my first time posting to here, and I'd love to get some feedback! any and all is appreciated, as well as constructive criticism!


End file.
